the lot. Tell him to hurry!"

So, it happened, the great J. A. Lamb a second time brought his
former clerk home, stricken and almost inanimate.



CHAPTER XXIV

About five o'clock that afternoon, the old gentleman came back to
Adams's house; and when Alice opened the door, he nodded, walked
into the "living-room" without speaking; then stood frowning as
if he hesitated to decide some perplexing question.

"Well, how is he now?" he asked, finally.

"The doctor was here again a little while ago; he thinks papa's
coming through it. He's pretty sure he will."

"Something like the way it was last spring?"

"Yes."

"Not a bit of sense to it!" Lamb said, gruffly. "When he was
getting well the other time the doctor told me it wasn't a
regular stroke, so to speak--this 'cerebral effusion' thing.
Said there wasn't any particular reason for your father to expect
he'd ever have another attack, if he'd take a little care of
himself. Said he could consider himself well as anybody else
long as he did that."